"I? I am a monument, to all your sins."

EIGHT HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SIX PAGES OF ADVERTISING CIRCULARS in today's newspaper. That's the pic of all of 'em in a heap on the living room floor.

(And if you didn't get the reference in the title, click here.)

826 pages. That is... just wrong...

We used to have a cocker spaniel named Bridget. Every morning we would let her go outside and she would run out to the end of the driveway and pick up the day's newspaper. Bridget would grasp it with her mouth and come prancing back to the front door with her head held high, and she wouldn't dare let you have the paper until you "paid" her with a doggy treat. If people think that animals don't have a concept of capitalism and property, then Bridget would have proven them wrong, but I digress...

Anyhoo, every day of the year, Bridget did her job well. Except for Thanksgivings. The newspaper on those days was so bulky she couldn't wrap her jaws around it at all, to say nothing of holding it up so proud-like. The poor girl had to drag the paper across the driveway and into the house. And even then she struggled to bring it up the stairs.

I'm not sorry for saying this, but if a newspaper is too heavy for a cocker spaniel to faithfully bring into the house because of all the advertisements in it, then it's got too damn many advertisements, period.